


House of Cards

by LittleMissMycroft



Series: House of Cards and Other Related Material [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Depression, Divination, Draco Malfoy is a Brat, F/M, Family, Harry Potter was Raised by Other(s), Hurt/Comfort, Implied Sexual Content, Minor Character Death, Obscurials (Harry Potter), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Prophetic Visions, Shorts (2009) - Freeform, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Politics, Tarot, The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, lots of card references in my chapter titles
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:01:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 19,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26501050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMissMycroft/pseuds/LittleMissMycroft
Summary: As war looms, the ninth recorded generation of Blacks is given the chance to correct their ancestors' mistakes. Prophesies are made, but where do we draw the lines? Is the world really divided into black and white? Perhaps the solution is really just a dark shade of grey...or perhaps a bleeding rainbow.Her eyes see porcelain dolls, magic rocks, and a house of cards as her mind spins.
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Other(s), Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley
Series: House of Cards and Other Related Material [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1926697
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	1. Prologue: Black is the Blood

**Author's Note:**

> This story is rated teen for complicated themes (such as grief and trauma), but there is little to no explicit language, and no explicit sexual content. This story is about children, therefore it will mostly be entirely appropriate for a teen.
> 
> Now.
> 
> I hope you are ready for a monster of a story. No, seriously. The planning for this story alone is over 80 pages. I started writing this when I was in 8th grade. It started out as a "Regulus lives" story and then morphed into a "child is raised by the Blacks story." I forgot about it for a while, but a few years ago I came back and began working on re-vamping it. Some of the material in the beginning is a bit rough, as I tried to integrate what I had and what I wanted, but I would say the quality of my writing improves vastly starting at chapter three. 
> 
> Regardless of however happy or not happy I am with this chapter, I hope you enjoy my first installment of House of Cards.

If there was one prestigious family it in the Wizarding World, it was the Blacks. As the most Ancient and Noble House, they spent years specially crafting their power within the inner workings of the Ministry. Their dynasty grew, and as it did, so did their reputation. But like all vast empires, one day theirs came tumbling down like a house of cards. It is there that we begin our story. However, not with the witches and wizards who inspired much fear, but with a house elf. The Blacks’ house elf, one who was pallid and bent, whose name was Kreacher. 

Kreacher had thrived under the service of his mistress Walburga. She was wife of the Heir Black, one Orion Black. They had two boys—Sirius and Regulus. Kreacher loved these two boys as much as he loved his mistress. He loved caring for them when they were small, helping his mistress keep an eye on them as they began to toddle about the mildly dangerous townhouse. But then Master Sirius broke Mistress Walburga’s heart by running away. 

Sirius was burned off of the tapestry and Regulus began to be groomed to be the future Heir Black. Where Sirius was loud, Regulus was quiet. The boy knew when to speak and when not to speak. He knew how to please his parents and how to be the perfect heir. With only one child left in the family, Regulus was treated like a prince at home. At school, he was shunned by his brother. This saddened Regulus, who loved his brother. 

But then the Dark Lord breezed in. 

Regulus, being the Slytherin that he was, was constantly under pressure from his peers—such as his friend Barty and his older cousin Bellatrix—and his mother. At the age of sixteen, Regulus joined the ranks of the Death Eaters. When Sirius heard, the budding auror refused to speak to his brother again. Kreacher, however, could not be prouder—his mistress was proud after all, so he would be proud of master Regulus. 

Then, a year later, Kreacher met the Dark Lord. 

He was such a cold man, putting off an ominous aura. After meeting him, Kreacher was not so sure that the Dark Lord was as good as his Mistress made him out to be, but Master Regulus had said that the Dark Lord needed an elf. 

Kreacher was taken to a cave beside the sea where the waves splashed against the rock and the air smelled of salt. They walked into the cave. There, the Dark Lord ordered Kreacher to cut open his hand. The elf, small in stature, looked up at the towering dark form above him, but complied and placed his hand on the wall in which he was told. It was cold, and he let out a small hiss. The wizard ignored him. Then, the wall melted away to reveal a large cavern. At first, the cavern was so dark that it seemed like a pitch-colored wall. Soon after, the Dark Lord conjured a light. It hung in the air above them, casting pale silver light that drifted down among visible water in the air, and they walked along the rocky shore of a great black lake. 

There was a boat. The Dark Lord conjured it from nothing and commanded the elf to get in. The two of them rode across the silky black water towards a small island. Kreacher leaned forward slightly and caught sight of a ghostly hand drifting in the water. He shuddered, and sat back. The boat drifted up onto the edge of the island and there the Dark Lord made the elf drink from a basin. It was filled with a potion that made Kreacher relive his most horrible memories. His stomach burned. He cried out for his Mistress, for Master Regulus, but the Dark Lord just laughed. Kreacher didn’t think he liked this Dark Lord any longer. 

When the potion was all gone, a locket was dropped into the basin and it was filled once more with the deadly liquid. Then, the Dark Lord left Kreacher there on the island. The elf was so thirsty, alone in the dark. So, he slowly crawled to the edge of the water and dunked his head in to take a drink. A pair of strong hands grabbed him by the ears and he was dragged under. 

Down, down, down they went. The elf struggled and kicked but he could not get himself free. More and more skeletal arms grabbed him. His lungs seared and he didn’t know which way was up or down. Then, Kreacher could hear Master Regulus calling him. So, he left. 

The elf reappeared dripping, choking, and gasping for breath. Instantly, Regulus moved to help him. He dried Kreacher and summoned the water from his lungs and stomach. Regulus grew very worried. After coaxing the story out of the elf, he told Kreacher to stay hidden and not to leave the house. 

After that, Kreacher knew that something was wrong with his master. Regulus always seemed very worried. He spent long hours in the library, reading up on dark magic. He would go to his Death Eater meetings and then would return home shaking and wide eyed. One such time, Kreacher found himself being shaken awake. It was the middle of the night. Once again, Regulus was shivering violently as he grabbed his elf and shook him awake. 

“You said the Dark Lord took you to a cave?” he asked. 

Groggily, the elf rubbed his eyes and after a moment, realized what Regulus was asking him and responded with a nod. 

“Take me there.” 

So Kreacher took his master to the cave. He cut his hand and opened the cave wall. He led Regulus down to the lake where he made the boat appear and the two of them rode across to the island. Kreacher offered to drink the potion, but Master Regulus insisted on doing it himself. He drank the potion and then handed the locket to Kreacher. 

“Take this back,” Regulus said. “No matter what happens, you have to make sure it is destroyed. But please—don’t tell my family what I’ve been doing, especially my mother. She just wouldn’t under—” he broke off, taking a steadying breath and gripping his arm—“understand.” He moaned and sank to his knees, clutching his arm to his chest. “I need water.” 

“Kreacher will get water for Master Regulus,” Kreacher offered. 

“No,” Regulus pushed the elf away. He crawled to the water’s edge and tried to take a sip of water. 

Kreacher watched with horror as his master was grabbed and dragged under. The elf remembered the horrible sensation of struggling, of his lungs burning and his mind churning at the lack of air. He remembered Master Regulus’s words—destroy the locket, don’t tell the family…don’t tell the family…Kreacher couldn’t just leave his master to drown! But where would he take him? Marius Black had been disowned—he wasn’t family, but he could help. 

Urgently, Kreacher dove into the water, grabbed his master, and left for Marius, thinking of the disowned Black and his orders to destroy the locket. They reappeared in the middle of a sitting room. An elderly man leapt to his feet and rushed over to the two of them. 

“Master Marius,” Kreacher croaked. “Master Regulus needs your help.” 

“Regulus?” Marius questioned, looking at the unconscious young man and his elf, both of which were soaked to the bone. “Pollux’s grandson? What happened?” 

Quickly, Kreacher spilled the story. Marius seemed to make up his mind and had the elf take the three of them to the nearest magical hospital. They described the situation to the Healers, who began to work on the young man. The summoned any trace of water from his lungs and tried to wake him up. Unfortunately, no matter what spell they cast, the man wouldn’t wake. Eventually, they settled on determining him comatose and getting him into some dry clothes. While doing so, they noticed that he had a sickly, grey pallor and his arm was swollen. There was a black tattoo on it, and the flesh around it was red and angry looking. 

“I’ve seen this before,” the Healer mused. “This isn’t good. It’s a product of a dark bondage curse. It seems that this young man has tried to break away from his bondage. The curse then encourages the defector to end their own life. This usually results in some grotesque suicides, but given the circumstances, Regulus would have been encouraged in reckless behavior that might get him killed, including not wanting Kreacher to take him out of the cave right away and instead touching the Inferi infested waters.” 

“But he didn’t drown,” Marius muttered. “Why won't he wake up?” 

“That would be the curse,” the Healer replied. “Once he is unconscious, the curse begins fighting to keep him from waking up. Although he doesn’t want to die—no human being does—the curse keeps him from waking up.” 

“Can you remove it?” Marius asked. 

“There is a cure,” said the Healer, “but the chances of it working are very slim. It could take him anywhere from weeks to decades to wake up.” 

“Please,” Marius begged. “Just help my nephew. I don’t care how long it takes.” 

So, the Healers worked to do just that. Regulus, still comatose, was relocated to Marius’s home. Kreacher insisted on staying with them, so the disowned Black found himself gaining an elf. Not really needing one, Marius decided to give Kreacher a task. Along with taking care of Regulus, the elf was to keep an eye out for any descendants of Marius’s that might have magic.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strove very hard to make sure this story wasn't simply repeating canon, so as a result there are quite a few...noticeable changes. This ranges from character development, to each years' teachers, to prophesies, to a bit of backstory worldbuilding. I'm sure you've noticed the first big change (being that Regulus actually survives).
> 
> Let me know if you enjoyed it! I will probably go ahead and at least post the act summary (the story is divided into three acts, each one getting their own chapter as a marker) before the day is out. I will try to post a chapter a week at least for the forseeable future, but I am notoriously bad with keeping up with these things during the school year (college during a pandemic is evil, ok?).


	2. Here Begins Act I

* * *

***~Act I~***

***~B~***

**_“My mom died when I was little,” the black-haired girl, with long, black braids, began. “I hardly even remember her now. My brother and I were mostly just raised by my dad until a couple years ago, when he died too.”_ **

**_“Well,” Harry Potter said, pinning her with sympathetic green eyes. “I’ve also lost my parents. I know how it feels to not have a normal family. I’m your friend, Hel, and I’ll always be here for you.”_ **

**_The ten-year-old girl smiled and almost felt as if she could cry as both he and Draco wrapped their arms around her and the blonde boy added, “Me too. I’ll always love you, Helvetica. We’ll always be family, the three of us.”_ **

***~B~***

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I think I am going to go ahead and post chapter one, given that the prologue is fairly short.


	3. Chapter One: Helvetica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the first official chapter. Just letting you know: I didn't name Helvetica. I realize her name is a clever (or terrible, in the case of the man who named her) pun. She is a character taken from the 2009 film, Shorts. The first few chapters will involve Shorts, but no previous knowledge of the movie is needed, and the greater bulk of the story afterwards will barely have mention of it. This was purely resultant of a case of "I was rewatching a movie I loved as a child and went....'Hey! What if Helvetica Black was related to Harry Potter's Black family?'" So yeah. Maybe not the most imaginative, but I was fourteen, and this story became a monster all on its own so....eh?
> 
> Haha, anyway. This is the last one I'm posting today. Hope you enjoy!

Helvetica Black loved the life that she had built for herself. She had her older brother wrapped around her little finger, and all of her teachers loved her. But Helvetica’s life wasn’t all that perfect. Ever since her mother had died, her father seemed to grow distant. At times it seemed like he was married to his job. They lived in the same house, but she never saw him except for at meals.

Perhaps that was why Cole doted on her. He was a bit older, and he noticed that his sister was unhappy. In the evenings, they would play on their  blackboxes together. At school, Cole would do many things to make his sister happy—including bullying Helvetica’s arch nemesis, Toby Thompson. Helvetica didn’t exactly know  _ why _ she bullied Toby, or Toe as she liked to call him. Some vindictive part of her felt satisfied at seeing the misfortune of the boy who had no friends. It reminded her that not everyone was happy.

Or maybe she liked an excuse to talk to Toe that didn’t involve awkward small talk.

Either way, Helvetica’s days went something like this:

The young girl sat at a long, polished walnut table. Her brother was seated across from her. Sunlight streamed in through the large windows as the cook put the two children’s breakfast on the table. Both Helvetica and Cole were pale, and dark haired. Their father had once liked to tell them that they had the noble complexion that befitted their family—whatever that meant. 

They wore nice, expensive clothes—tailored suits and ties—to school. Helvetica’s outfit was pink and black, whereas her brother’s was blue and black. Helvetica thought her father’s choice of color scheme was  _ very _ imaginative. But no matter their dress, the two ate their breakfast in relative silence in order to prepare themselves for school. Occasionally, one would lightheartedly bicker or insult the other. 

After finishing their breakfast, they would grab their backpacks and head out—usually they would ride the bus where Cole would separate and go off with his friends, but occasionally the siblings would walk to school together. Usually this was on days when Helvetica was feeling particularly lonely.

They would get to school, and usually the first thing done would be to seek out Toe Thompson. 

“Hello nerd,” Cole grinned at the younger boy. Toby was Helvetica’s age and was only slightly taller than the girl. He had light hair, light green eyes, and darkly tanned skin. Their only similarity was their twin metal mouths—in other words, they both had braces. “Since you don’t have any friends, I’ve found you one!”

The older boy picked up Toe and dumped him  headfirst in a trash can.

Helvetica smiled at her brother, hoisted her bag higher over her shoulder, and stalked off towards her first period class. They would go through the school day. Helvetica’s teachers would all praise her for exemplary work, and she and her brother would occasionally find different ways to torment Toe. Then they would head home once more. Helvetica would do her one or two homework assignments, and then it was time for dinner.

She was ignored by her father yet again as the man played on his  blackbox , delegated work from his dinner table, and avoided small talk—mostly by answering his own questions on how his children’s days had been. Then Helvetica and Cole would shower, brush their teeth, change into pajamas, and play in the loft until it was time for bed.

Then, she would repeat the whole sequence.

On and on it went, and Helvetica found herself in a limbo between happy and unsatisfied. Finally, one thing changed her routine.

“Hey metal mouth! Got another date with the trashcan?”

Helvetica, Cole, and his cronies surrounded the dark skinned boy. Toe gulped and looked around at them all. Then, he plucked up his courage and spoke.

“I know why you have them beat up on me every day,” he said.

“Because I hate you?” the girl asked simply, her black pigtails swinging slightly.

“Because you  _ love _ me,” the boy replied, placing his hands on the girl’s shoulders. At her icy look, he quickly pulled them back. Undeterred, he continued, “That’s it isn’t it? We’re both outsiders, we’re both lonely, we both have railroad tracks for braces. We’re lonely and bored and that makes you head over heels in love with me.” Helvetica stared at him. “Am I right?”

Well that wasn’t according to plan.

“How about…” Helvetica started, her face hardening. “No.”

***~B~***

_ He was so thirsty.  _

_ The  _ _ black-haired _ _ young man grabbed the goblet from the potion he had been drinking and crawled to the edge of the dark water that surrounded the little island. He scooped up some water and shakily lifted the goblet to his mouth. A hand shot out of the water and grabbed his wrist. The silver goblet dropped to the rocks with a clang as the young man, already weak from the potion, was dragged into the water. _

_ Then, skeletal arms closed around his chest and he was taken deeper and deeper. Bubbles streamed out of his nose. His chest was searing from lack of oxygen and slowly darkness enclosed him. He let in a breath and— _

Regulus Black sat bolt upright, his back arched, gulping in a huge shuddering breath. But instead of filling with water, his lungs filled with sweet air. The man’s eyes snapped open and he saw that he was not in a dark cave, but a sunny room with black furniture and decorations. 

Suddenly there were two large eyes blinking at him.

“Master  Regulus !” came a croaky voice like a bullfrog’s.

“Where am I? What happened?”  Regulus asked, throwing off his blankets. He stood up, but his knees gave out and he fell to the floor. He dragged himself up and used the bed as a support.

“Master must stay in bed,”  Kreacher the house elf said, helping  Regulus back into the bed. “Master  Regulus has been asleep for a long time.”

At that, the door opened to reveal an old man.

“Is he awake? The alarms went off,” the man said.

Kreacher bowed. “Yes, Master  Regulus just woke up Mr. Black.”

The man waved a hand. “How many times do I have to tell you? Call me Marius.”

“Marius?”  Regulus parroted. “As in my Uncle Marius that disappeared when he was a child?”

“I did not disappear,” Marius said with a haughty sniff. “I merely…left.”

Regulus glanced around the room again. “ So, where are we?”

“We are in my house in the United States of America. After I left, I sought refuge here. My son is actually a successful business man!” Regulus made a face. “But I suppose you want to know how you got here. Well… eight years ago Kreacher came to me with you, saying that you needed caring for…The two of you were dripping wet and you were in a coma, but you were family so I took you in of course…”

“ So, it’s been  _ eight _ years?”

Marius nodded. “We are certainly going to have to catch you up with the times. And rehabilitate  you as well. We had suspected you would be out for a while—the healer said it had something to do with the mark on your arm.”

“ Kreacher you are dismissed to do your other chores,” Marius said after a pause. “I will take care of  Regulus .”

Kreacher bowed so low that his nose touched the ground, and backed out of the room. As Marius left as well,  Regulus looked down at his bare arm to see a long white streak where his Dark Mark had previously been. His throat choked and when he tried to swallow, he found he couldn't around the lump that had formed there. Tears threatened to well in his eyes. He was free. A sob finally tore its way out of the young man's throat.

***~B~***

Helvetica Black couldn’t believe this. Sure, tormenting Toe was fun, but she had never expected him to insanely pounce her and knock the two of them out the window. Normally this wouldn’t have been such a bad thing if they hadn’t been on the SECOND FLOOR! Helvetica and Toe rolled down the roof with many  oof’s and ouches. The black-haired girl heard her enemy fall to the ground with a sickening crunch. Helvetica, now afraid that she would break her back when she landed, began to panic. Then, the next thing she knew, she was standing on two feet beside the idiot boy.

“Huh,” she said thoughtfully, looking down at her feet.

“How did you do that?” Toe asked with a moan, twisted his head uncomfortably in order to look at her without moving his arms.

“I don’t know,” Helvetica murmured. She blinked in the hot sun, looking from her hands to the sky to where Toe lay on the ground still. He hadn't moved at all since landing, and the girl was afraid he really had broken something.

Meanwhile, Kreacher pulled his head from around the side of the building and started quaking with joy. He had found one! Another magical Black!

***~B~***

Regulus listened with interest as  Kreacher explained to Marius exactly how he had seen the squib’s granddaughter use accidental magic. The young man was sat on a couch, slowly flexing his muscles. He had been in a magical rehabilitation program for the past few weeks, working on being able to use his muscles once more. After an eight year coma, they had practically liquefied. While Regulus did so, he shook his head in bewilderment. The young man couldn’t believe his ears. He had a cousin that actually was a Black (so not a Potter or a Malfoy) that had magic?

“ So, what now?” Regulus asked his uncle.

“I want you to keep an eye on that girl,” Marius told  Kreacher . “From what I’ve heard, she has quite the knack for getting herself into trouble, and for witches that does not bode well.”

“Yes, Master Marius,”  Kreacher said, bowing low.

As he made his way to leave, Marius turned to  Regulus . “And you, my boy,” he said, “need to catch up on the times.”

Regulus’s voice stopped  Kreacher’s retreating form.

“ Kreacher , go to the old townhouse and get old newspapers.”

“Newspapers?”  Kreacher croaked.

Regulus nodded. “Every single one you can find.” 

Kreacher returned nearly an hour later, clutching a stack of newspapers that were piled so high that he couldn’t see over them.  Regulus waved his wand and levitated them out of the elf’s hands. Then, he set the papers gently on the ground. The young man went forward and started sifting through them, looking at the dates.

“There aren’t any papers after 1985,” he murmured. 

The young man flipped the stack over to dates that were closer to his memory. He picked up a paper that was published shortly after  Regulus ’ mission to destroy the Dark Lord, turned to the second page, and sank to his knees as his eyes caught the heading of an article. 

**_ Orion Black Dies _ **

_ Orion Black, heir of the Black family died yesterday late in the night. Most people say that he died from the grief of losing his youngest son. The once great family is now in the hands of Orion’s oldest son, Sirius Orion Black… _

Regulus threw down the paper, his eyes tearing up. “ _ The once great family _ ,” he quoted in his head bitterly. So that was what their family had come to? Theirs was a house of cards and all it took was a little blow from Voldemort to knock them all down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you'll notice by now, I will be including tarot cards in the beginning of each chapter. Feel free to predict their meanings, or guess why I put that specific card on the chapter. Some will be foreboding of the future. Others will just be in reference to the chapter itself. 
> 
> Don't mind Helvetica's maladaptive brattiness. She gets better. It's called character development, people. XD
> 
> ~LittleMissMycroft out


	4. Chapter Two: The Magic Rock

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of a warning: the next two chapters will be a bit weird. There will be some (potentially uncomfortable) switching between goofy and dark. Stick with it. I promise it will settle into the regular Harry Potter mood after the next chapter. 
> 
> P.S. thanks for the follow! You know who you are ;)
> 
> Oh, and yes the page of pentacles is upside down for a reason.

Helvetica tried to find a reason not to visit Toe in the hospital, but in the end her father forced her to anyway. Once back to school, both she and her enemy found that they were separated from the others, forced into exile at the detention table—not that it mattered, since neither of them had any friends. 

But as Helvetica made fun of Toe for his casts, a curly haired boy in their class named Loogie sidled up, stole Toe’s bread, and ruffled his hair. Why did that nerd get a friend and not her? It wasn’t fair. Still, the girl forced a cruel smile and her torments increased. 

***~B~***

Regulus straitened the tie to his Muggle suit. 

“Are you sure about this?” he asked. 

He and Marius were standing outside a Muggle restaurant. It had been almost a year since he had first woken up from his coma—nine years since his mission from the Dark Lord. Marius clapped the young man on the back with a laugh. 

“What do you think would happen? Come on, let’s go inside.” 

They went in and were seating at a table that was in the back. Marius sat down with his back to the rest of the restaurant and Regulus sat across from him. A waitress came and took their order before walking off. Regulus watched her retreating back sullenly. 

“Look at them,” he said quietly. “They don’t even know that magic exists.” 

“But why don’t they?” Marius asked. Regulus didn’t answer. “You separated yourselves from them. Look at them. Really look at them, young Regulus. Do they look any different from you or me?” 

“I guess not,” the dark-haired man sighed. 

“The only difference is that they don’t have magic. But because of that, they have had to adapt and invent things to do what magic does. The Muggles had trains before we did because they had no apparition like wizards did. They invented trains and wizard-kind took the design and used it for themselves. And what about indoor plumbing? They invented that as well.” 

Regulus hummed thoughtfully and drummed his fingers on the table. He had been raised to believe that Muggles were dirty, sniveling creatures, but maybe that wasn’t actually the case. His family had openly supported wizard supremacy, but look where that got them. As he had been reading through the newspapers, Regulus learned that two years after his father had died, the Dark Lord had fallen and most of the Blacks were imprisoned, including his brother Sirius. When he had found this out, he had been shocked. 

_Regulus slapped the paper down in front of Marius._

_“The thing is, he had run away and joined the light side_ years _before the Dark Lord fell. He couldn’t have joined the Dark Lord at any point, or I would’ve known—having been a Death Eater myself. Plus, before I went on my mission to destroy the Dark Lord, Sirius had shouted at me and cut off all connections with me because I had joined the Dark side.”_

_He sat down in a chair at the table._

_“Did he even get a trial?” he wondered aloud, snatching the paper back up and reading through it. “I don’t see anything in here about one…”_

The young man had dug a little deeper, reading different papers and none of them mentioned a date for a trial. Then, he concluded that his brother had been wrongly accused of being a follower of the Dark Lord. Most people must have suspected this at first, but knowing his family’s reputation for the Dark Arts, Regulus guessed that the Wizarding community had finally accepted that Sirius had been tricking them for years. 

***~B~***

A few hours later found Helvetica and Cole getting ready in their home. Their father was holding a costume ball for his company—a big event, apparently. Both children were required to dress nicely. Helvetica put on her best black dress, white hair piece, and black and white sneakers. Her brother…put on his football uniform. Well, at least it was clean. 

The two of them watched couples flood in, and seeing men and women smiling arm in arm, Helvetica thought of Toby Thompson—the only boy in the class that spoke to her…she didn’t stop to consider that the only reason was because she had him stuffed in a trash can every day. The girl ran back upstairs to grab her gloves that she had forgotten and drew to a halt at the sight of her black box. She hesitated, and then picked it up. 

“ _Hello?”_ came Toe’s voice after the dial tone ended, signaling that the boy had picked up. 

“Your parents are coming to my dad’s costume party tonight,” the girl said primly, picking up her nail file and rubbing it across her cuticles. 

_“I know.”_

“You coming too?” she asked after a moment. 

_“_ ** _No_**.” He didn’t sound happy. 

Helvetica hesitated, and then hissed, “Good.” 

“ ** _Bye_**.” 

“Wait!” Helvetica didn’t know what compelled her to say that to the boy who obviously did not want to speak with her, but she couldn’t help herself. Once she realized the mess she had gotten herself into, she scrounged for something else to say. “Have you told your parents about me?” 

“ _What would I tell them? Mom, Dad, there’s a girl at school that stuffs me in a trash can every day! You know? The one who broke my arms_.” 

Helvetica laughed mirthlessly. If she recalled correctly, _he_ was the reason they had gone tumbling out of that window. “That’s funny.” Her smile fell. “Don’t come over, and _don’t_ say anything about me!” 

“ _I won't say anything about you_.” 

Satisfied, yet unhappy, Helvetica left her room and glided down the stairs to stand by her brother. Light glittered off of her hair piece and the sparkles in her dress. The end of it was veneer and trailed along after her. Cole noticed her long face and said, “You look stupid.” 

“So, do you,” she retorted quickly, a smile flitting across her face. 

“Now, children, what did I tell you?” their father interrupted as the three of them watched their house guests. “That is no way to treat a person. Courtesy, consideration, respect. You know it. Now do it.” 

With identical fake smiles, the children replied, “Yes, dad.” 

The doorbell rang and the man went off to answer it. Helvetica drifted along silently behind him. After pulling his head back inside, Mr. Black turned and looked at his daughter. “Some kids just rang the doorbell and ran off,” he said. “You haven’t been making enemies again, have you?” 

Helvetica considered lying, but then tried to tell the truth—all of it, including her small crush for the boy. Unfortunately, she only got as far as, “See, there’s this boy—” before her father cut her off. 

“If they come back let me handle it. Not you. Understood?” without waiting for a reply, he patted her on the shoulder and walked off once more. Helvetica slumped. 

Then, she perked up again with curiosity. Silently the girl made her way to the door and went onto the stone porch, looking around. Seeing nothing but the sparkling fountain and green bushes, the girl looked down to find a silver pouch. She stooped and picked it up, looking at it. She guessed that it belonged to one of her father’s guests, and they had dropped it while coming in. 

While still looking at the glittering purse, Helvetica felt a tap on her shoulder. She turned and, catching sight of a familiar tan face, slapped the bag across it. 

“Ow!” Toe cried, clutching his eye. As Helvetica pulled the purse back, she realized there was a heavy weight like a rock in it. Oh well. “What’d you do that one for?!” 

“I warned you to stay away, _Toe Thompson!_ ” Helvetica shouted in reply. 

“My _name_ is Toby!” 

“Helvetica!” the door swung open and out popped her dad, impeccable suit and all. “Why all the shouting?” 

“Oh!” Helvetica turned to her dad. “This is Toe.” Then, quieter, she added, “I mean, Toby. He brought me my…math homework!” she smiled and held out the small pouch. “He was just bringing it to me.” 

She slapped the purse into the boy’s stomach. He let out an “oof” and nodded as if to confirm her story, still holding a cast encased arm up to his eye. 

“Please accept my apology, young man,” Mr. Black said with cold eyes that belied his smile. “I’m afraid that my daughter has a terrible habit of bringing unwanted attention to herself.” 

“ _Dad,_ ” Helvetica grumbled. 

“ _Hel_ ,” her dad interrupted. Her expression grew colder, as if battling to match his. As it was, they engaged in a miniature staring contest, but her father naturally won the battle of wills. “Take him inside, put some ice on his head. We’ll talk about this later.” 

Her face drawn into an angry pout, Helvetica grabbed the boy and began to drag him inside. 

“Let’s go, _Hell_ ,” Toe teased. 

Helvetica punched him in the stomach. She brought him into the kitchen where the cook and temporary hired help were bustling about. There, she got a bag of ice, wrapped it in a red rag, and brought it over to the boy. He regarded her warily. 

“Now stay still,” she said before jabbing the ice violently onto his eye. He grunted and squealed and when she pulled away, rubbed his eye gingerly. Dropping the ice, rag and all, the girl asked, “What are you doing here?” 

“I was just coming to get my mom’s purse,” the boy replied, leaning over the counter to grab the purse. His hand closed around a colorful stone and the bag slipped as he jerked away and exclaimed, “Thanks!” 

“Wait, don’t go!” she shouted, grabbing his cast and finding her hand landing on a cool stone. 

“Let go of the wishing rock!” 

“Wishing rock?” she asked, jerking her hand up. Toe fell back and Helvetica found herself holding a rainbow-colored rock that had the appearance of glass. “How does it work?” 

As she looked at it, she could feel a sort of power pulsing within it. Her fingers and toes tingled and although the rock was cool to the touch, her hand began to feel very warm. 

“I said _fishing_ rock,” Toe argued, trying to reach over to grab it but finding his way blocked by Cole. Cole smiled, picked up the boy, and dumped him in a trash can. Then he smiled at his sister expectantly. 

Deciding that this was not how she was wanting her night to go, Helvetica mumbled, “Ugh, you stupid excuse for a brother.” Cole’s smile fell and he looked confused momentarily. “I wish you were— _gah_ , I wish you were a stupid little dung beetle!” 

There was a pop, and Helvetica found herself staring at a dung beetle. Her mouth dropped open. “Wow,” she breathed. Toe, knowing something was happening, attempted to stand up, taking the sleek metal trash can with him. As he stumbled forward, he hit Helvetica in the face and she found herself falling backwards, the magic rock flying out of her hand. 

Toe rolled off of her and continued to struggle to slide out of the trash can. Helvetica felt something touch her hand and looked to see a large beetle scuttling away towards a buffet. He came to a rest in the small, dark space. Helvetica crawled over. 

“I’m gonna change you back,” she assured him. “Just—stay here so you don’t get smushed.” 

There was the creak of springs and a hand grabbed her shoulder. Hel looked up to see Toe standing over her, who hissed, “Give me my rock back.” 

“My brother’s a bug,” was her anguished reply. 

“So, what’s new?” 

“The rock’s out there somewhere.” She jerked her head towards the banquet room, which adjoined the kitchen. “Stay here while I go get it.” 

“We go together,” Toe argued, slipping his arm into hers. His cast scratched against her arm. 

They entered the room and found her father giving a speech. As he did so, he was taking the occasional snack off of a tray that a waiter held out to him. Finally, his hand closed around a small, cool rock. As he inattentively brought it up to his mouth, Toe and Hel let out identical gasps. 

“I wish all of you had that same ‘go-for-the-throat’ spirit,” the man ended. 

The rock in his hand began to glow and he looked at it with disgust, realizing that it was not, in fact, food. Instantly, everyone in the room began fighting. The only ones that seemed to be unaffected were Mr. Black, Toe and Hel, Mr. Noseworthy, and Toe’s parents. So, it was easy to say that the room went mad. 

“What are you doing?” Mr. Black asked. 

Someone bowled into him and knocked the rock out of his hand. The rainbow-colored stone slid across the floor to Toe’s parents, where they dropped down to grab it. Toe got it first, grabbing it in a tight fist. 

“Thompson, do you know what’s happening?” Mr. Black shouted. 

Mr. Thompson grabbed the rock out of his son’s hand and said, “I believe Team A has found the solution.” 

“No,” his wife argued. “That’s _our_ solution!” 

Helvetica grabbed it from them and held it out to her father. 

“We’ve got the rock now, Dad,” she said. “Now we can have everything we want. Just wish for it!” 

“Ah, so this is your doing, Helvetica?” 

“No, Dad, if you would just listen—” 

“We’re here to talk about a box! A blackbox! Not a round colorful object. The blackbox needs to do everything!” 

“That’s what this does, Dad!” Helvetica held the rock out to her father. 

“That’s it, Helvetica, this is the last straw! Go to your room and don’t ever come out!” 

“No!” she shrieked. “I wish you would just listen to me for a change!” 

The man stopped, staring at her and lifting his hands up to his ears. At seeing his change in demeanor, Hel turned and said, “I wish for a rocket bike.” 

She began to climb atop it and Toe came up to her, speaking swiftly and softly, “Helvetica, I know what it’s like to feel ignored. To feel like you don’t have any friends. But, Helvetica, _I’m_ your friend.” 

She hesitated, and then replied, “I don’t need friends.” 

She smiled at him, showing off a mouth now free from braces. Then she kicked off the brakes and sped down the road. She wasn’t sure where she was going. All she knew was that she wanted to get far away. She still clutched the rock in her hand. It pulsed with energy, warming her hand. In a moment of distraction, she looked at it. Then, she looked up to see a curb looming at her. The bike hit the curb and she went flying into the air. 

She landed in a trash can with a groan. She laid there for a minute before realizing that the rock was gone. She crawled back onto the road and looked up in time to see Toby running off with the rock. She ran after him. 

“Give it back!” she cried. 

Toby spun his arm and the rock went flying off into the air over the nearest house. Hel’s mouth dropped open in outrage. Upset and angry, she stomped back to her house. There, she found that everyone had left. Her dad stood in the doorway, as if waiting for her. 

“Where is that funny little rock of yours?” he asked. 

“He threw it,” Helvetica mumbled. She puffed, attempting to blow her mussed hair out of her face. “Clear over there somewhere.” 

She pointed to the nearby houses. 

“Did he?” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just Toby's immediate reaction to Helvetica having a mental breakdown is "I'm my friend" when all she's done is bully him for years. We don't deserve children. When they're not being terrors anyway XD  
> The chapter kind of ends a little awkwardly, and this is really the middle of a two-chapter drama, so I think I am going to post the next chapter today as well. Don't get used to it though, lol. On another note--for anyone who is wondering, I am currently thirty-three chapters into my writing. So, don't expect for me to run out of material to post any time soon. Unfortunately, I am stuck on the Yule Ball chapter because it has now been multiple years since I was surrounded by high-school-age drama. ToT . Wish me luck!
> 
> Let me know what you think, and for now, read on!


	5. Chapter Three: The King is Dead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is interested, I had Danse Macabre stuck in my head on a loop when I was writing these first few chapters and if you want, you should listen to it why you read this chapter. 
> 
> Trigger Warning: description of dead character.
> 
> Also, don't @ me for being unoriginal with the tarot card at the beginning of this chapter. I have more reasons than character death for its inclusion--otherwise, it would be in...well, let's just say multiple chapters in the future. It's no secret that characters die in the Harry Potter series.

Helvetica and Cole ran down the streets of Black Falls in the direction that they had seen the rock fly. The sun shone high, as it was near noon. As they rounded a bend in the road, Helvetica could hear Toe’s voice. She saw, a little ways away, him and Loogie walking hurriedly in their direction, unsuspecting.

“First, I wish these casts were off!” Toby exclaimed, holding the rock above his head with both hands. His casts were gone in a flash of light and magic. Then, he continued walking and said, “We need to think this through. We gotta be careful, and start by—”

The boy cut off as Cole snuck up behind him and pushed the two younger boys over. As Toe fell, Helvetica grabbed for the rock and snatched it out of his hand.

“Handing it over to me,” she finished for the boy. She looked triumphantly from the rock to the two boys before her, eyeing them critically. “Cole, I think we’re going to need  _ two _ trashcans.”

Her brother grinned. “It must be Christmas.”

A voice interrupted their small little circle.

“Hey! She has a rock just like ours!”

It was Laser, as he and his brother, Lug, ran up. The two of them were Loogie’s older brothers. Laser was older by eighteen months, and Lug was older by one minute. All three boys had a notorious reputation for being your regular gamer.

“That  _ is _ ours, dummy!” Lug exclaimed.

And, as if their circle hadn’t already grown enough, up ran a sixth boy. This one had large glasses and long, slicked back hair. He wore overalls and a striped polo, and was absolutely covered in mud. His name—or at least what the children called him—was Nose. He and his father, Mr. Noseworthy were the village kooks. They lived in a large house up the lane (though not as large as Helvetica’s) and usually never left it, for fear of germs.

“Hey, guys,” Nose grinned.

“Look who it is,” Helvetica smirked, looking at the mud-covered boy. “What are you doing outside, Bubble Boy?”

“What’d  _ you _ wish for? Guts?” Cole added.

“No, he came out on his own,” Toe stated, wrapping an arm around Nose and then thinking better of it. He made a face and wiped the mud on Cole’s black jersey.

“That’s right. I’m not afraid of anything anymore. Not even you, Type-face.”

Helvetica’s mouth dropped open indignantly. She sucked in a breath to retort but was cut short by the sounds of sirens. The black-haired girl looked up to see several police cars swerve to a halt on the road behind them. Several men wearing suits stepped out of the vehicles, one of them being her father. 

One man with sunglasses called out, “Put the rock on the ground and step away.”

“Dad, what are you doing?” Helvetica asked hesitantly.

“It’s all for the best, Helvetica,” Her father replied. Beside her, Toe whispered something to Loogie that she couldn’t hear. In her moment of distraction, she missed what her father said next. Then, she found the rock being grabbed out of her hand by Nose. 

“Get it!” Her father shouted. The girl didn’t move. “Helvetica! Do whatever it takes!”

She began to run and as she did so, still facing him and skittering backwards, she cried, “But I thought you told me not to be a bully!”

“It’s not bullying if you win!” he argued

“Ugh, I  _ hate _ being told what to do!” the girl growled and then turned to chase after the boys. 

As she reached them, she heard Laser shout, “I’ve got it!” He was standing by the curb, clutching the rock. Seeing the others turn to look at him, Laser let out a yell and ran into the nearest house. The boys ran after him, pushing, shoving, and shouting. Helvetica followed behind them. They all gathered in the foyer of the home they had run into, by the stairs, and pushed to grab the rock.

“I wish for really long arms!” Laser exclaimed.

Thinking fast, Helvetica dashed past the boys and up the staircase. She ran around the second landing and paused just as Laser’s arms reached her height. She grabbed the rock with one hand and thought very hard.

“ _ I wish to disappear _ .”

She saw her hands disappear and stifled a gasp. 

“She’s invisible!”

The girl looked down at her feet—there was no trace of her, not even a shadow. The only thing was that the rock was still entirely visible. Knowing that the others would soon see the rock bobbing in midair, Helvetica made for the door.

She ran out but felt arms wrap around her. It was Laser. He had caught up to her, and his arms encompassed her body three times before they twisted around and grabbed the rock.

“Reverse invisibility and arms back to normal,” Laser wished.

Helvetica reared back and socked Laser in the face. The rock went flying once more, landing on the ground and rolling towards the curb. Finally, it came to a stop at a pair of shiny black shoes. A hand reached down and grabbed the rock. Mr. Black laughed.

“Curbside delivery,” he remarked mockingly. Beyond him, people began flooding out of their homes. They had either heard the shouts or seen the kids run past and had come to investigate. As he saw them form a loose band in front of him, intermingling with their children, Mr. Black called, “I have an announcement to make. You’re all fired! This small stone is the ultimate blackbox—the only upgrade we’ll ever need. Wait, I can just forget about the business altogether and simply wish for a giant pile of money!” As he said this, a money began to materialize in packets of dollar bills, building higher and higher until he was standing on a tower of green. Helvetica’s father laughed. “You see, black becomes colorful, square becomes round, and you become obsolete! I’ve got all I need right here.”

As far villain monologues went, Helvetica didn’t think that her father’s was particularly good. In fact, it seemed particularly selfish. Was her father a villain? 

“But what about me, Dad?” she asked, stepping out of the crowd.

“Yes, Helvetica, you can come too—and you as well, Cole.”

It seemed more of an afterthought than anything else, and Helvetica wasn’t sure whether she should be saddened or infuriated. She turned to look at Toe, who had come to a halt behind her. Slowly, the olive-skinned boy shook his head. Helvetica turned back to her father.

“Come on, Dad, you must be joking!” she called.

“My girl, I wish I were,” he said silkily. Unfortunately, those were the wrong words to utter when holding a wishing stone that took words quite literally. Within seconds, his tower of money had crumbled. As it did so, it toppled sideways. Black dropped the stone and grabbed at the first thing he could, to prevent himself from falling to his death—that so happened to be the top of Black Inc.’s main building.

The children all ran forward to try to catch the rock, but it fell directly into the outstretched hands of one of Mr. Black’s security officers.

“Wish me down!” Black shouted. “I’ll double your salary!”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Black,” the man called, “but I don’t need your money! I have the rock!” He swayed a little, as if drunk on power, trying to decide what to wish for. 

“The adults are going to wreck this place for sure,” Toe exclaimed. “We’ve gotta stop them.”

“Right,” Loogie nodded.

“Right,” Helvetica agreed softly, nodding with determination.

Perhaps the man had heard them, or perhaps he was simply greedy, but he pushed the boys away with a shout of, “Stay back!” Then, he continued on to say, “I wish…I was…”

Seeing his uncertainty as an opportunity, Helvetica threw her hand onto the rock and cried out the first thing that popped into her head: “An Oscar Mayer Weiner!”

With that, the man turned into a human sized hot dog and rolled towards the nearest curb, where he came to a halt. In the distraction that the man caused, Mr. Black was helped down onto the ground. As the people continued to mill about, Black stepped forward, grabbed the stone, and shouted, “Enough!” Then, he added softly, “I wish I was the most powerful thing in the entire world.”

The rock began to glow. Black dropped his small blackbox. The second it hit the ground, black squares rippled out from it towards the man, engulfing him. As his hand was transformed, he dropped the rock as well. He grew and grew until he was taller than Black Inc. itself, his eyes glowed green—he was the human version of a blackbox.

“We have to take turns using the rock to stop him!” Helvetica exclaimed. “Cole, he’s our dad, so you and me first!”

She and the boys were the only ones left standing in her father’s way. Everyone else—adults and children alike—were running back in a panic. As they ran, Helvetica ran in the opposite direction—towards her father. She stooped, grabbed the rock, and yelled, “I wish I was a giant wasp!”

She flew off, ramming the monster her father had become. As she did so, her brother grabbed the rainbow-colored rock and said, “I wish I was a giant…dung beetle?” 

So, he too transformed and ran off. Then, it was Toe’s turn. “I wish for my secret friends!” Then appeared an army of…pixies? Helvetica shook her head and blinked in surprise.

“I wish for my crocodile army!” came Loogie’s desire. 

Suddenly dozens of crocodiles appeared, walking on hind legs. They all encircled the man who craved power. The crocodiles crawled over him like rats in a sewer. Helvetica and the tiny glowing fairies flew all around his head, pushing and shoving at him. With a shout, Mr. Black threw all of the crocodiles off.

In the middle of the road, a baby sat. A crocodile was coming straight toward her. She threw out her hand and they all heard one word: “ _ Stop _ ,” and then silence.

***~B~***

Regulus set the paper he was currently holding down. The date read November 1 st , 1981. In it was the information that the Dark Lord had been defeated the night before. Regulus raised his hand to his chin thoughtfully. If the Dark Lord had been defeated, did that mean that Kreacher had succeeded in destroying the locket? Or had he not been able to and the Dark Lord wasn’t really gone?

Regulus absolutely had to know. The difference could mean life and death.

“Kreacher?” he called out.

There was a pop and the house elf bowed so low to the ground that his nose grazed the floor. “Master is calling Kreacher?” the old family elf asked.

“Yes,” Regulus replied urgently. “That locket I gave you. Did you ever destroy it?”

Kreacher looked down at his feet.

Regulus grabbed Kreacher’s grimy shirt. “Did you?” he asked, a crazed fear in his eyes.

Kreacher started wailing and attempting to punish himself. Being suspended in the air by Regulus, the deranged house elf resorted to banging his head on his master’s chest.

“Kreacher tried, oh how Kreacher tried! Bad Kreacher! Bad Kreacher!”

“Kreacher!” Regulus snapped, letting go of the house elf.

Kreacher looked up with tears still staining his face. It was sad how pathetic Kreacher looked.

“I am not angry, but I need you to bring me the locket so that I can work on destroying it.”

“Yes, Master,” Kreacher replied, back up with his head bobbing. “Kreacher can get locket for Master.”

And he disappeared with a pop. 

Finally, Regulus picked up a newspaper from 1985. In it was the information that Sirius and Regulus’s mother, Walburga, had died. Regulus realized that his entire immediate family was gone. It was sad and the young man couldn’t help but feel like it was his fault. Maybe, if he hadn’t gone on that mission, his father wouldn’t have died from grief. Then, maybe his mother might have been alive as well— heck, he might have been able to convince the Wizenagamot to give his brother a trial!

***~B~***

“Wow, there is a  _ lot _ of magical activity going on in a No-Maj neighborhood nearby.” A man leaned back in his desk chair, sipped his coffee, and looked at his partner. “It’s in the same place as the accidental magic we were getting alerts of—Black Falls,” the wizard continued. He looked down at a piece of parchment where words and images were being scribbled by an invisible hand. “But this is different—it’s  _ massive _ . I don’t know what could cause this.”

One of the senior members of their division stumped over and looked at the parchment.

“I haven’t seen something like this in sixty years,” he breathed, his eyebrows climbing up his forehead. 

“What should we do?” one of the younger MACUSA workers asked.

“Send out a team. We need to make sure that something of this magnitude does not endanger the Statue of Secrecy.”

***~B~***

Helvetica clung onto Toe’s hand as the rainbow rock spun harder and harder, reflecting different colors on all of them and blasting air out at them. It swirled in a mass of black energy as it did so. Then, it flew off into the sky and rained poured down on all of the neighborhood below. Helvetica let out a gasp as she was drenched instantly. The rain stopped a moment later and everyone looked around to see that there was trash all over the streets and the yards from the strong winds. 

Then, she looked up and saw a rainbow.

“Look!” she exclaimed. “It’s the end of the rainbow!”

“Or the beginning,” Loogie said, stepping forward.

“I just hope they use the rock more wisely than we did,” Toe said.

Helvetica nodded. The baby had told them that they had made the rock angry with their petty desires, so it had left to find someone that was more worthy than they were. Everyone else went off to pick up trash. Helvetica and Toe looked at each other awkwardly. Toe turned to look at a trash can, afraid that she would dump him in it like she used to.

“That wasn’t what I had in mind,” the dark-haired girl said.

Just then, Toe’s parents walked up to them.

“Is this your little friend?” his mother asked.

“I’m Helvetica,” she said with a smile, holding her hand out.

Toe’s mother shook it and she and her husband walked away with twin smiles.

“So, are we friends, then?” Toe asked.

“Let’s just stick with no longer enemies,” Helvetica replied. And they separated to pick up trash. 

The wreckage on the street resembled the aftermath of a particularly violent hurricane. There were yard toys, trash, leaves, rubble, and all sorts of other things littering the ground. Still lying against the curb where he had returned from being an Oscar Mayer Weaner was one of Mr. Black’s workers. At seeing him groaning and rolling over, Helvetica realized that she had yet to see her father.

Her eyes first scoured the crowd, but after she could not locate him, she dropped her gaze to the wet ground. There he was, lying off in the road, closer to Black Box Inc. than the rest of the crowd. Helvetica ran over, calling his name, but he didn’t respond. Helvetica dropped to her  knees and tapped her father on the shoulder. Still no response. Finally, she rolled him onto his back with great difficulty, and at seeing a pair of blank grey eyes the girl let out a scream.

The baby had told them that the rock had grown angry because of their petty desires. What she had neglected to tell them was what it did in retaliation. The rock didn’t seem to grow angry at fulfilling children’s fantasies. But, if an adult used it for selfish desires, the rock would enact its own punishment.

Castor Black was dead.

***~B~***

Three men appeared in the streets of Black Falls. Two of them were young—one with brown hair and the other with black. The third was older, with hair that was entirely grey. The moment the three appeared, they saw people trying to pull a little black-haired girl from what appeared to be a dead body. Tears were streaming down her pale face. She was screaming, and things were flying and breaking all around her, scaring the No-Majs that were trying to help her.

“The perpetrator of accidental magic,” one of the young men observed.

Quickly, they jumped into the fray. One young man cast an  _ immobulus _ spell on the flying objects. Another was wiping No-Maj memories of what appeared to be a mishap with a magic rock. The old man was bending over the crying girl.

“Come away,” he said softly. “There’s nothing you can do for him. You’re hurting these people.” Her dark eyes turned on him. “I won't hurt you. I’m here to help.”

At seeing her begin to calm, the man pried her away and held fast to her hand. Then, he turned to his other companions. 

“Let’s go,” he said.

With a  _ CRACK! _ all three disappeared. That was the last Helvetica saw of Black Falls for quite a while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As said in the end of the chapter, this is the last we will be seeing of Black Falls for quite some time. You can ruminate on whether it will come back into play later or not. As it is, this chapter marks the beginning of a large transition in Helvetica's life where we will see her character evolve. It is also the end of my strange mesh of writing between two fandoms, as well as the mesh of what I had already written and what I added in. The next good bit is just fresh, good, old-fashioned writing. For now, Act I is still my favorite, and I am almost done writing Act II. I'm looking forward to it! 
> 
> Also, feel free to talk about your theories in the comments, I would love to hear them. I love it when people accurately predict things I do later in my story. 
> 
> I will see you guys next week (hopefully). Catch you on the flip side!


	6. Chapter Four: Black Estates

The place Helvetica was brought to was poorly lit with several desks littering the room. In the center of the room was a pedestal that sat on some sort of emblem in the floor. Upon the pedestal was a long piece of parchment that had writing scrawling across it constantly. When they appeared there, Helvetica sucked in a gasp of air. Then, she looked around in a panic.

“What just happened?” she squawked. “Where am I?”

“MACUSA headquarters, Texas Division,” one of the young men replied.

“As for what just happened,” the old man said, “that was magic. Do you believe me?”

“Yes,” Helvetica nodded. “After the magic rock, I’ll believe anything.” She grew silent. “What’s a mackooza?” 

“Magical Congress of the United States,” was the reply. “It’s the form of government for witches and wizards in this country.”

“Witches?” Helvetica asked. “They’re real?”

“Yes. Witches are females who can wield magic. The males are called wizards. We populate the entire world, we just stay hidden to avoid persecution. You are a witch yourself.”

“So, when we fell of the roof, and Toe broke his arms, but I landed on my feet…?”

The man—wizard—nodded an affirmative. “That was magic.” 

Helvetica grew quiet once more. Her lips pursed in a thoughtful expression. 

“So why am I here?” she asked.

“We are just going to ask you a few questions,” the old man said kindly. “Whenever there are large amounts of magic in a non-magical area, we always have to check it out. Already we’ve wiped the memories of the No-Majs.”

“No-Maj?”

“Non-magicals.”

“Wait, so they don’t remember anything of what happened?” Helvetica asked, her heart dropping. “They won't remember the lesson to not be greedy? Or how my father died? Toe won't remember that we’re friends now?”

The old man nodded to one of his companions, who grabbed a piece of parchment and an old-fashioned looking pen.

“What exactly happened?” he asked.

So, Helvetica told them. When she explained about the wishing rock, the three shared looks. Small inanimate objects like that having such strong properties was nearly unheard of—it took a lot of advanced magic. The main object that came to mind when she said “wishing rock” was the fabled Resurrection Stone. At their prompting, she explained as much as she could about the rock’s limitations and rules. She explained her father’s greed, which led to his death.

At this, they questioned her further. Did she have any relatives she knew of? Was there someone to take care of her? She explained that no, her mother was not alive either. She had a fourteen-year-old brother who was  _ not _ magical as far as she knew. She had a grandfather that she knew of, but she hadn’t seen him in years. His name was Marius Black.

Again, the men shared a look.

This girl was not just No-Maj born. She was a descendant of a squib line that stemmed from one of Wizarding Britain’s most legendary families. To Wizarding America, hearing of the Blacks was like the No-Majs obsession with the British Royal Family gossip. Everyone knew that the Blacks, once considered Wizarding royalty, were dying out. Once word got out that there was a new generation of Blacks that was not dead or imprisoned, the remaining members would be all over her.

Deciding on the safest option, the three determined to give Marius Black a call.

***~B~***

Grandfather Marius was much the same as Helvetica remembered. She was taken by the MACUSA to his country estate in Washington. She found that Washington was beautiful in a way that Texas was not. While her home was sunny and dry with palm trees and warm breezes, Washington was cold and mountainous with lots of evergreen trees and meadowy hillsides. There were lakes and rivers, and one could not get much more different from Texas. 

Marius’s estate was rather large, housing its own assortment of forests and creeks. It sat in a valley beneath a tall mountain. Further down in the valley, nestled against a separate mountain, one could see a small town. The buildings that she could see looked old-fashioned—like something one would expect to see in a Polish town. It gave the whole place a sort of storybook feel. 

All of this she could see through the large bay windows in Marius’s sitting room. They had used the fireplace to get there—something called the floo. As she glanced at the fireplace, the green flames within were already dying. Within the room itself, there were black and forest green couches. On one of them sat a black-haired young man who appeared to be in his early-to-mid-twenties.

Standing in the middle of the room, waiting on her, was Marius.

“Where’s Cole?” she asked.

“He’ll be along shortly,” Marius replied. “He has to travel the normal way.”

The man on the couch twitched.

“Me, you already know,” Marius said to her, placing a hand on her shoulder. “I’m your grandfather, Marius. This young man over here is my nephew, Regulus. Regulus, this is Helvetica.”

“Pleased to meet you,” the young man drawled in a British accent.

“Hello,” the girl said quietly.

“I heard about what happened,” Marius said to her. “Terrible business. Why don’t you run along and pick out a room? Then, you can explore.”

Helvetica nodded briefly and glided off, straight-backed. Her face was a perfect mask of stone. Marius watched her go with sadness in his eyes, and then let out a long sigh as he dropped on the couch across from Regulus.

“You’ll need to become her magical guardian,” Marius told the young man. “You know how our world works—as an orphaned witch, she must have a wizard as her guardian. I don’t want her getting pushed and pulled between all of my relatives.”

“Of course,” Regulus nodded. “But may I remind you that while I am now twenty-five years of age, I still have the heart and mind of a seventeen-year-old. I do not know how to care for a child.”

“You won't need to worry about that,” Marius waved a dismissive hand. “As soon as the Blacks hear about her, they will all help raise her. I just want her custody to be set in stone before that happens.”

“Right,” Regulus nodded. 

***~B~***

As expected, word of Helvetica’s existence travelled to Britain. All of the old ones gathered together—Arcturus, the head of the family, with his wife Melania was in charge of the meeting. Pollux and Irma, Helvetica’s aunt and uncle were there. The spinster, Cassiopeia, was present as well—she too was Helvetica’s aunt. There, there were the lower branches of the Blacks—Cygnus and Druella, and their daughter Narcissa Malfoy. 

As they argued, their voices overlapped each other.

“She’s our niece, obviously she goes to us!” Pollux shouted.

“But as the only Black in the younger generation left, that makes her in line to be Heir,” Melania argued. “She should come live with Arcturus and I.”

“Of course, she shouldn’t!” Druella snapped. “You two are nearing the end of your lives. She should go to someone who can care for her as she grows up!”

Cygnus looked sullen. As his uncle’s granddaughter, that would put the orphan as being Narcissa’s second cousin—giving her the same status to succession as Cygnus. Being the younger of the two, it only made sense that they would choose Helvetica as Heir over him.

“I have a son her age,” Narcissa interjected. “I’m sure the two would love to spend time together.”

“And have her become a Malfoy?” Irma scoffed. “I think not!”

The only ones who remained silent were Arcturus and Cassiopeia. Finally, the head of the house interrupted their squabbles with a shout of, “Enough!” The room fell silent. “Do we know where she currently is?”

“With my brother,” Cassiopeia finally said. “In America.” 

“Our dear old squib of a brother,” Pollux muttered.

“Hush!” Cassiopeia snapped.

“Yes, yes, we all know that she cannot stay with the squib,” Arcturus agreed. “Why not meet the girl and let her decide for herself?”

The family members all looked amongst each other. Many of them appeared dissatisfied, but they did not argue. Instead, they tasked Cassiopeia with contacting her younger brother.

***~B~***

“May I present my grandson and granddaughter, Helvetica and Cole.”

Helvetica picked at the uncomfortable robes that Marius had put her in. Beside her, Cole was wearing a regular suit.

“A boy?” Arcturus asked, looking at Cole. “We haven’t heard of him.”

“He’s not magical,” Marius replied quietly. Cole looked down to the floor. All of the Blacks looked at him as if he was a rabid animal and took a step back.

“Now I know that you all are probably vying for custody of our newest witch,” Marius continued, “but I’m afraid to say that my nephew, Regulus, is already her full magical guardian.” 

He gestured to the man in question. Eight pairs of eyes turned to look at Regulus, who had previously been silently standing at the back of the room, unnoticed. Then the room exploded.

“But he was  _ dead! _ ”

“Why didn’t you  _ tell _ us?”

“He has been unconscious for the past nine years—a nasty side-effect of one of the Dark Lord’s curses,” Marius explained evenly. 

The Blacks’ expressions grew dark at the mention of the Dark Lord.

“Well she can't stay here!” Pollux finally. “She must come to Britain with the rest of the family!”

“But I don’t want to leave here!” Helvetica finally exclaimed. “I  _ like _ Washington!”

“Hush, Helvetica,” Marius said softly. 

Helvetica pouted.

“I plan on taking her to my family home,” Regulus said. 

“Great,” Arcturus smiled. “And this solves the problem of succession. With Sirius in prison and Regulus now alive, that leaves my  _ younger _ grandson as heir.”

“You know the magic won't see it that way,” Pollux muttered. “Regulus won't be heir until Sirius dies.”

“Nevertheless,” Arcturus argued. “Publicly, we cannot have an heir in prison. Here is what I propose: Regulus shall return to the Black Townhouse as planned and Cassiopeia shall move in with them—Cassiopeia has no family other than her great-niece, after all.”

Cassiopeia looked annoyed that she was being volunteered against her will. Still, she didn’t seem too unhappy.

“That’s it then?” Pollux asked. “They’ll move in by tomorrow then?”

“And I shall move in in a few days,” Cassiopeia agreed.

“Under one stipulation,” Marius interjected. “I would like that she still be able to visit me at times. She  _ is  _ my granddaughter, after all. That townhouse does not do children good. Children must have fresh air and adventure while they are still young.”

“Agreed,” Regulus said quickly.

“Very well,” Arcturus nodded.

“And, she must be allowed to visit Malfoy Manor as well,” Narcissa said.

“I should like to see my niece over the holidays,” Pollux added.

“Yes, yes,” Arcturus snapped. “She’ll come to visit all of us. This issue is resolved. Now, let us go and leave these people in peace.”

***~B~***

After somber goodbyes the next day, Regulus and Helvetica flooed to number twelve, Grimmauld Place. It was the home Regulus had grown up in and he slightly feared returning now. He knew that with both of his parents dead and Kreacher having been caring for him in America, the house was probably disgusting and slightly haunting. Regulus guessed right for as he walked into the main hallway, the dust, cobwebs, and silence of the place sent chills up the young man’s spine. 

Regulus shook himself and ushered Helvetica forward, taking the trunk of things Marius had bought for her. The girl looked around with a mixture of fear and disgust. Now she understood why her grandfather had said what he did about this place—the very walls seemed to press in on her and stifle her. She swallowed as they passed a number of heads that had once belonged to family elves. She and Regulus stood in the hallway in silence for a moment.

Then, Helvetica whispered, “Is this place haunted?”

“No,” Regulus replied firmly, his voice as low as hers. Then he hesitated, “At least I hope not.” The young man composed himself and said in normal tones, “This is the house I grew up in. I’m sure that once it is cleaned up it will be suitable to live in. You should have seen this house the way it was when I was a child. It was magnificent…” he trailed off nostalgically. “Kreacher!”

Kreacher appeared with a pop. Helvetica jumped and looked at the wrinkly house elf with revulsion.

“This is Kreacher, my house elf.”

“What do you want, Master Regulus? Kreacher lives to serve the Most Noble House of Black.”

“I want this house cleaned up. By tomorrow, every surface should shine. Start with the kitchen. Clean it out and restock on food. Then I want you to clean areas that guests would visit. After that you may move on to the rest of the house.”

Kreacher bowed low before snapping his fingers. Instantly, all of the dust in the hallway disappeared. Then, Regulus took Helvetica on a tour of the house that would come to be her home. They walked up the stairs to the first landing. There, there were two bedrooms that Regulus had already had fixed up.

“This is your room,” he said, gesturing to the first.

On the door was a plaque that read, “Helvetica’s Room”.

Helvetica went inside to see that it had been decorated in pinks. There was a four-poster canopy bed with pink drapes. The wallpaper was black, matching the black carpet under their feet. In the center of the room was a pink rug. Beside the bed was a dresser, and across from it was a wardrobe—already full of robes that Regulus had ordered for her. The three furniture pieces were all made of matching dark wood. Over the window hung thick pink curtains. Above the dresser was a shelf full of old magical toys that Kreacher had found around the house.

Helvetica walked in and observed her new room silently. It was so grand. She left her trunk by the wardrobe and sat on the bed, rubbing a hand across the duvet. It was the most comfortable thing she had ever been on. Then, the girl looked solemnly up at Regulus who seemed to be waiting for a positive reaction from her.

He motioned for her to follow so that they could tour the rest of the house. The room next to hers was the playroom. Next to that was another bedroom. This one was not labelled, and Regulus told her it was a guest room. At the end of the landing was a bathroom and then they walked up another flight of stairs to find another bathroom and two bedrooms. The first was Regulus’s and the next, the master bedroom, was Sirius’s.

“This is my bedroom,” he informed her without opening the door. Then they continued on to the next room, “And this was my brother’s, Sirius.”

“What happened to him?” Helvetica asked, noticing how Regulus had said  _ was. _

“He was imprisoned,” Regulus replied. “Unjustly, I’m afraid, for a crime he did not commit.”

They stood there a moment before Regulus shook himself once more and led her back down two sets of stairs and back into the entrance hallway. Then, he led Helvetica to a room that was to the right of the staircase.

“This is the parlor.” The dark-haired man led her through it and into an adjoining room. “And this is the sitting room.”

They went back across the hallway and into a separate room.

“This is the kitchen.”

Helvetica looked around at the dimly lit room which was full of grimy pots and dusty countertops. Then, he showed her the family sitting room, the office, and the private library. After the tour was over, he allowed her to return to her room. She was discouraged from exploring  _ this _ place, lest she get herself into trouble. 

***~B~***

Helvetica was put in the uncomfortable robes again. Regulus told her that it was the sort of thing that pureblood society wore all the time. She didn’t think she liked it. There was a crack, followed by a brisk knock on the front door.

Regulus sent her to the parlor before heading off to answer the door. The young man opened it to reveal an austere looking woman. She wore the finest robes gold could buy. Her hair was pulled into a tight black bun at the top of her head and her face had a slightly pinched look to it. She was beautiful in a way, but it was the sort of beauty that was so severe that it gave her a rather sinister look.

“Aunt Cassiopeia,” Regulus said, standing to the side so that the woman could enter.

She strode inside Grimmauld Place and headed for the parlor. Once there, they could see the young, black-haired girl.

“You’ve already met Helvetica,” Regulus said.

Cassiopeia stepped towards her.

“My brother’s granddaughter,” she nodded, tilting Helvetica’s chin up slightly so that she could see her face better. “Yes, I see the resemblance.” 

From what Helvetica understood, Cassiopeia would tutor and care for her. She supposed it was like a nanny or a governess, but grander—for this stern woman seemed too great for a simple role as nanny. Cassiopeia then turned and gave Regulus a look.

“Why don’t you go play upstairs while I talk with your aunt?” Regulus suggested to the girl.

She nodded slowly and set off. Once she got to her room, she pulled the robes from over her head and dug in the drawers of her wardrobe for play clothes her grandfather had gotten her. These were  _ not _ robes, but a loose pink top and plaid shorts. Then, the girl grabbed a stool to look at the belongings on her shelf again. On it was a chessboard, what looked like a deck of cards, some odd-looking marbles, and a teddy bear. Helvetica then went into the playroom through a door that connected the two. There were all kinds of things in there. There were dolls, toy trains, and all of it seemed magical and very,  _ very _ old. The eight-year-old picked up one of the dolls. 

It was wearing an old-fashioned dress and its white face was made of porcelain. Its black hair was pulled into two braids. Helvetica looked at it for a moment before taking it to her room.

Helvetica laid down on her bed and thought. This was certainly strange. She was in a house in a whole other country with a man she hardly knew. Her life had been completely uprooted and changed. Now she was going to be taking private lessons instead of going to school. The girl was probably also going to be learning completely new things. But still, if being there meant that she could learn more about magic, then she had no problem with living in Britain. Helvetica just hoped that she wouldn’t be too lonely.

Before, she had told Toe that she didn’t need friends. That was completely a lie. Helvetica needed friends as much as anyone else and she knew already that she was going to miss Toe. She sighed and looked at the doll. It smiled at her encouragingly.

** *~B~* **

“Such a strange child,” Cassiopeia mused as Helvetica disappeared up the stairs. “Very solemn.”

“If we are going to be living together, I need to address something,” Regulus said, not replying to her previous comment. “There are some things I may need your help with as well as the Helvetica’s upbringing.”

“Oh?” his great aunt asked, raising an aristocratic eyebrow.

“I intend to back the light side once the war starts up again.”

“Again? The Dark Lord is dead.”

“I do not think so,” Regulus replied. “I have reason to believe that he made a horcrux before his downfall.”

Cassiopeia would have sat up straighter, if it was possible, at the interest she suddenly let portray in her eyes. Being raised in a prominent, dark family Cassiopeia knew exactly what a horcrux was; an object that was meant to protect a piece of your soul. With horcruxes, the Dark Lord would be immortal.

“What makes you so sure about this?” she asked.

“I cannot divulge all of my information now. Not until you have sworn an oath to help me and to not tell a soul about this.” Cassiopeia nodded. He swore her to secrecy and then showed her to the guest bedroom. Once she was there, she ordered a house elf to bring her things. 

***~B~***

That evening, Helvetica put her foot down when her aunt had tried to bathe her, insisting she could take a bath by herself. She took the nightgown that the old woman held and went into the bathroom. After her bath, warm and wet, Helvetica dried herself off and put on the white gown. She then realized that her pajamas were not what she was used to—usually she would wear some sort of top and pajama pants. This nightgown, however, was floor-length and frilly. It made her think she was living in the eighteenth century once more. 

She left the bathroom and returned to her room, where she finally relented and allowed her Aunt to brush her hair. The woman did so, casting a drying spell, brushing her shoulder-length locks, and telling her that she should grow her hair longer. Then, she braided her hair into two French braids. As she did so, Helvetica asked, “Aunt Cassie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Can I write a letter?”

“ _ ’May _ I write a letter,’” the older woman corrected.

“ _ May _ I write a letter?” the girl amended.

“I don’t see why not,” the woman said. Helvetica’s head was pulled back slightly as Cassie continued to braid her hair. “Who would you be writing a letter to?”

“My friend, To—Toby Thompson.”

“Mmmmm,” the woman hummed.

Silence fell over them once more. There was another little tug on Helvetica’s scalp.

“Aunt Cassie?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Why do you try to dress me, bathe me, and braid my hair?”

“I’ve always wanted a little girl so I could braid her hair,” the old woman replied. “I never got married, so I never did have a little girl.” Cassie tied Hel’s plaits off with little white ribbons and beckoned the child into bed. “Now I have you.”

She tucked the covers in, turned out the lights with a wave of her wand, and left. Helvetica laid in her bed, holding her old doll, and stared up at the dark ceiling. At least she wasn’t being ignored here. The girl’s mouth turned down into a little frown as she thought about her aunt’s words. Then, she decided she would grow her hair out. If it made her aunt that happy, she saw no reason in arguing. Content, Helvetica closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.

***~B~***

_ Dear Toe, _

_ I am very well. My new home doesn’t have a telephone of any sorts so we will just have to send each other letters. Anyway, I am here with my cousin Regulus (though I call him Uncle).  _

_ And then, of course, I take lessons from Great-Aunt Cassiopeia. She is my grandfather’s sister and is very uptight. She always makes sure that I keep my back straight, eat with my mouth closed, don’t run in the house, and a number of other annoying things. Still, she is a great teacher and is nice to have around for when you need to know something. _

_ Sometimes it is boring in the stuffy old house. I don’t have anyone to play with, so usually I explore (even though I’m not allowed to) and read. The books here are very interesting. Aunt Cassie caught me reading a particular book that she threatened to blind me so that I couldn’t read if she caught me with it again. Don’t judge her too harshly, though. I know that she would never do that to me. Even though she tries not to show it, I can tell she really likes being around me. _

_ But enough about me! How are you doing? What is it like to not have me around to stuff you into trash cans? I assume it is rather dull. _

_ I hope to see you next summer (if Aunt Cassie lets me visit), _

_ Helvetica _

Helvetica looked up from her letter. She sat in a window seat in the drawing room, which was open to the hallway. Beyond the wide doorway, she could see the stair-case and the shriveled elf heads that were mounted on the wall. Helvetica sighed.

“Kreacher,” she called.

“Young Mistress calls?” Kreacher asked happily, bowing low to the ground.

“Take down those wretched heads,” the girl ordered.

“But, Mistress Helvetica, the mounted—”

“I said take them down!” the girl snapped.

“As you wish,” the elf replied, bowing low once more.

With a snap of his fingers, the heads were gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit of a breather after the debacle that is the beginning of the story. Next chapter we will be meeting our favorite brat (Draco Malfoy, of course). I hope you guys enjoy how I wrote their relationship, because I certainly did. But for now, just give me some kudos and tell me what you think ;)
> 
> Have a great week!
> 
> LittleMissMycroft


	7. Chapter Five: Draco Malfoy

Helvetica lay on her stomach, peering through the railings of the second story landing. Beneath her, Cassiopeia and Regulus were talking in hushed tones. 

“She never smiles,” Cassiopeia was saying. “I can hardly get the girl to speak to me during lessons. All she does the entire day is wander listlessly through the house. It’s not healthy.” 

“What do you suggest?” Regulus asked. 

“She should visit with other children her age,” Cassiopeia said. “Narcissa said she has a boy Helvetica’s age. I think she should pay a visit or two to Malfoy Manor to get her spirits up. If nothing else, the fresh air will do her good.” 

“You’re right, of course,” Regulus nodded. 

Silently, Helvetica crawled backwards, went to her room, and closed the door without a sound. 

***~B~***

Helvetica’s first impression of her cousin was that he was entirely too old to be rolling on the floor, screaming and crying. Somehow, that didn’t seem to stop him. He appeared to be throwing a fit of sorts for the elves that were all gathered around him, banging their heads on the floor and pinching their ears with grimaces. But, upon realizing that there was an intruder in his domain, the boy was on his feet. 

The waterworks stopped as he dried his face and came over to inspect the black-haired girl and her pink plaits. As she did anytime she mingled with “high-bred society” she wore her itchy black robes. Draco, she noted, wore a pair of robes as well. His were grey and had a high collar that was buttoned up to his neck. The boy was pale, with a pointed face and grey eyes. He had platinum blonde hair that was slicked back. 

To Helvetica, he seemed the very opposite of Toe. 

“Who are you, then?” the boy asked imperiously. 

“I’m your cousin,” the girl sniffed. “Helvetica Black.” 

“Black?” he questioned. “I’ve heard of no Black children.” 

“I don’t care what you think,” she scoffed, sticking her nose in the air. 

That seemed to satisfy the boy. 

“Do you want to come outside and play Quidditch with me?” Draco then asked. “We have a pitch out back.” 

“What’s Quidditch?” Helvetica asked. 

“You play it on brooms,” the boy supplied, grabbing her hand and dragging her towards the door. “Come on, I’ll show you.” 

***~B~***

Helvetica soon settled into a routine. 

Every morning she would wake up and put on her play clothes. Then, she would go downstairs into the kitchen and eat a meal that was served by a singing Kreacher. On weekdays, she would have lessons with her great aunt until noon, when she would eat lunch in the drawing room. Then she would have the afternoon to play. In the evenings, they ate dinner in the dining room and then Regulus would play one game with her before it was time to take a bath and go to bed. Helvetica learned a lot of new games like Wizard’s Chess, Gobstones, and Exploding Snap. One time, Aunt Cassie found Regulus teaching Helvetica a gambling card game that he had learned in his years at Hogwarts, and those were promptly forbidden. 

Every Friday, she would visit Malfoy Manor. Usually she would go over in the afternoon and stay until dinner. A few times, when Draco demanded it, the girl would spend the night. She got her own bedroom in the manor whenever she slept over. While she was at Malfoy Manor, she would occasionally see Cygnus and Druella, Draco’s maternal grandparents. She didn’t think Cygnus liked her very much. Other times, she would see Draco’s paternal grandfather—Abraxas Malfoy. 

Every other Saturday Helvetica would visit either Pollux or Arcturus. Pollux was her great-uncle, and she typically called him “Uncle Pol.” To Draco, however, the man was his maternal great-grandfather. Arcturus, the head of the family, was actually Helvetica’s third cousin twice removed—or so she was told. Since she was legally Regulus’s child, and therefore Arcturus’s adopted grandchild, he made her call him grandfather. 

She still had yet to visit Grandfather Marius and Cole in Washington, though she wasn’t very surprised. Her new family did not seem to like her grandfather. They always pretended as though Helvetica really was Regulus’s daughter, and that she had always lived with them. The only person who didn’t do so was Draco, who she hadn’t told that she used to live in the “Muggle World” as they called her old home. 

***~B~***

Summer faded into fall. At Malfoy Manor, Narcissa made sure that the children were wearing scarves and warm robes before flying about in the air on Draco’s brooms. At Grimmauld Place, one could see the leaves turn red in the park across the way, if they were to look out a window. 

Still, the girl continued to hang out with Draco Malfoy. He was a very opinionated boy, who was used to getting his own way. Helvetica soon found that out when she had told him that she didn’t want to play Quidditch that day. The boy had thrown a fit to rival a banshee, and in the end, Hel had decided that it was not worth it to disagree with the boy. 

But she found that she disagreed with him quite often. 

It only made sense—the two children grew up in very different worlds. While both children were spoiled and had a past of bullying others their age, they held no other similarities. Hel had grown up in No-Maj America, where she was used to roaming across Black Falls as much as she pleased. She wore very different clothes and hung out with very different people. To a person like Draco who was always surrounded by family and servants, Helvetica’s old life would seem heathenish. 

Their biggest disagreement was on No-Majs, or Muggles, as Draco called them. When Helvetica had mentioned that she had grown up with non-magical people, the boy had turned his nose up at her, asking how she could stand to live with non-magical pigs. 

“Now listen here!” Helvetica shrieked, throwing a finger in the boy’s face, her other hand finding its way to her hip. “You can't just go around insulting people just because they aren’t like you! My old friends and family were all non-magical, and they were just like you and me—they were just _…handicapped!_ ” 

Draco swallowed, staring at her finger, unnerved by her shrill scoldings. It was then that Draco discovered that Helvetica could be just as opinionated as he. In order to diffuse her wrath, he finally relented and admitted that perhaps Muggles weren’t all _that_ bad. 

Helvetica crossed her arms across her chest and harrumphed, her black plaits swinging. 

That was the day that Helvetica decided that she wouldn’t put up with Draco’s nonsense any longer. After realizing that he listened to her when she yelled and shrieked, she knew that she could get him to stop acting like such a brat—at least a little. The next time he threw a fit when she said that she didn’t want to play Gobstones, Helvetica screamed, “Just _shut up_ ! I _hate_ you!” 

Draco stopped screaming immediately and stared at her. Then, his face contorted with fury, and he said, “You do _not_ hate me. You aren’t allowed to.” 

“I can hate anyone I want to,” she argued. “And I don’t like people that are always sour and mean.” 

“I’m not sour,” Draco muttered, making the most sour face a child could manage. 

“I’m not going to do what you want so long as you’re mean,” the girl sniffed. 

“Fine,” the blonde huffed. “I’ll be _nice_. Is that what you want?” 

“ _Yes_.” Helvetica assented, exasperated. “I’ll make a deal with you. If you’re not mean to me, and you don’t insult my choice of friends, then I’ll let you choose the games we play—so long as we are at Malfoy Manor.” 

Draco seemed to think for a second, before sticking his hand out for her to shake. 

“Deal.” 

***~B~***

Early October, Regulus delicately set an object on the desk in the Blacks’ study. It was a Friday evening, and Helvetica was expected to spend the night at Malfoy Manor. Across from the black-haired young man, Cassiopeia leaned forward, her eyes widening ever so slightly, and gently picked up the chain to the object. 

“Is this…?” she breathed. 

“Slytherin’s locket, yes,” her nephew nodded. 

Dangling from the chain was a large, heavy locket. An ornate silver _S_ , inlaid with many green stones, glinted dully in the dim light of the study. It sat upon a pair of golden doors, held closed with a little silver clasp. Cassie’s breath hitched as she lifted the locket itself, and then attempted to prize the doors open. 

She let out the breath in one big gust as they remained unmoving. 

“I’ve already tried to open it,” Regulus told her as she set it back down. “I expect that it requires a specific magic to open it—maybe an encoded spell, or…?” 

Cassie shook her head. 

“We don’t even know how to destroy the thing. I think we ought to look into that before attempting to open it. I’ve heard of Horcruxes—ever since I was a girl, I’ve known of them…but they are such _dark_ magic it was almost taboo to speak of it. For once, this is a bit of dark magic that I do not know well.” 

With a wave of her wand, a locked door in the desk sprang open and the locket floated inside it. Then the drawer closed and there was a click as it locked once more. Finally, a book came soaring off of a shelf and onto the desk between them. It was titled _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ . The old woman flipped through fragile pages before coming a halt to a portion of the book that detailed Horcruxes. 

Regulus leaned over her shoulder and together they skimmed through the directions on how to create a Horcrux until it began to speak of how to destroy them—the tome warned any prospective wizards to protect their encased soul fragments well. Making a Horcrux makes one’s soul unstable, so he ought to protect it the best he can. Then, Regulus read what he had been looking for: 

A Horcrux could only be destroyed if its host was damaged beyond magical repair. 

“What does that mean—beyond magical repair?” Regulus asked, stepping back. 

His aunt pursed her lips and then said, “Well the most obvious thing I can think of is Fiendfyre,” she replied. “Aside from that, I am sure that there are other substances or Dark Magic that could destroy one…basilisk venom—there’s only one known cure for that, and phoenix tears aren’t really common.” 

“So…?” 

“Our best bet would be fiendfyre, I suppose,” the elderly woman sniffed. “Although, we most certainly cannot do the honors within this townhouse. Surely we’ll have to go somewhere to destroy it.” 

“Somewhere we can contain the flames as best we can,” Regulus nodded. “Everyone knows how unstable it can be.” 

“Yes,” Cassie replied. “I propose that we plan to do this at another time.” 

“Agreed,” Regulus said, picking up the dark book and replacing it on its shelf. The two left the study and the lights blinked out behind them. 

***~B~***

One day in mid-November, Helvetica and Draco sat in Draco’s playroom, putting together a puzzle. It was raining outside, so the children could not roam outdoors. Since their puzzle was a wizard’s puzzle, the image moved across the different pieces. Helvetica thought it made it much more difficult to put together. According to Draco, that was what made it fun. She didn’t know if she believed him. 

“That doesn’t go there!” the boy commanded, slapping at her hand. 

“I don’t want to do this anymore!” Helvetica exclaimed irritably, throwing the piece down. 

The young girl slipped off of her chair at the chess table and onto the floor, gliding over to the window. It was quite wet outside—water dripping from every surface. The sky was gloomy, matching the girl’s gloomy reflection on the glass window panes. She was getting paler, she noted, but she assumed that if _anyone_ had been staying in Grimmauld Place for several months, they would get pale too. 

Another pale reflection joined hers, and she turned to see her cousin standing behind her. 

“Why don’t you ever smile?” he asked quietly. 

“Because I don’t have anything to smile about,” the girl replied. 

“You _have_ to smile,” Draco pouted. 

“Why?” 

“Because I say so.” 

“Then, I won't do it,” Helvetica disagreed, folding her arms across her chest. “You have no right to tell me what to feel. My parents are dead, I’ve been taken away from my friends, and I’m not allowed to visit my brother.” 

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Draco frowned. 

“You never asked,” Helvetica replied. Then, she added softly, her eyes staring at the floor, “You _never_ ask.” 

“Well…” the boy trailed off hesitantly. “I’m asking now.” 

Her dark eyes looked up, seeming to pin him down. Then, she said, “His name is Cole. We used to be really close when we were little. He’d do anything for me. I don’t know why, though. I didn’t like him very much when I was little.” 

“Maybe he was nice,” Draco smiled. 

“Maybe,” the girl replied solemnly. 

Draco sighed. It was then that he determined that he would make this girl smile, if only because of her stubborn insistence to remain gloomy. That day, their relationship shifted. Draco, in trying to make this girl smile, found himself being less demanding and less cruel. As he mellowed, their friendship only improved. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Up next will be Christmas. Leave a review with any theories or questions you have!
> 
> Have a great week.
> 
> LittleMissMycroft


	8. Chapter Six: Christmas with Family

Helvetica’s ninth birthday was a small affair. She received a stationary set from Cassiopeia, and a self-assembling puzzle from Regulus. The puzzle, when assembled, formed a sphere and had little sea creatures that flitted across it. The girl thanked her relatives calmly for the gifts and took them up to her room without a smile. Cassie shook her head at the girl’s back.

Then, one Saturday when Helvetica was visiting her Great-Uncle Pol, Regulus and Cassiopeia set out to find a good location to destroy the locket. They settled upon a large rocky slope at the edge of the sea. They supposed that the damp rocks would be easy to bolster with magic to keep it from burning from the cursed flames.

So, they apparated there and the two instantly began casting protective enchantments and barriers. Then, Regulus set the golden locket down on the rocks and stepped back, throwing up a shielding charm between himself, his aunt, and the locket.

Cassiopeia took a deep breath before slashing her wand left and right over and over again. The tip of her wands began to glow orange, and then large bursts of wild fire flashed out towards the locket. It only took a single puff of fire to dissolve the object entirely. Then, the woman ceased conjuring flames and put all of her effort into controlling the fire. She swooped her wands around, forming the fire into a ball, and then directing the flames up into the sky where they disappeared in a puff of smoke.

She stepped back, breathing heavily. Beads of sweat were rolling down her face.

“I don’t know how many more times I can do that,” she breathed. “I am not as young as I once was.”

Regulus’s grey eyes were transfixed to the damp rock where there was a pile of charred, smoking dust.

“We’ll find a better way,” he finally said, offering his arm to his aunt.

***~B~***

December passed slowly. Later that month, the family was invited to a large and formal Christmas party at Malfoy Manor. Arcturus was going to be there also, as well as a number of important witches and wizards. So, Cassiopeia prepared her great niece for the party. She instructed her on how she would need to act proper. The woman also began teaching Helvetica French, which was a language most prominent pureblood families could speak fluently. Then she went over their family tree with the girl and taught her about most of the important figures in their world.

Finally, on Christmas Eve, the pair of witches flooed to Malfoy Manor. Helvetica was in a pair of dress robes. In her opinion, they were worse than regular robes, for they were more frilly and tight. She saw that Draco was wearing dress robes as well. His were black with a high collar. With his hair slicked back, Helvetica thought he looked like a vampire.

He bowed to her when she arrived, and she curtsied in reply, with a quiet, "Bonjour." 

"I thought you didn't know French?" Draco asked as he led the way to his playroom.

"I didn't. Aunt Cassiopeia has been tutoring me."

"It must be interesting being tutored by a renowned Black," the boy mused. "All of my tutors are boring, and they grovel." 

"It's not terribly interesting," Helvetica shrugged. "Maybe it would be more entertaining if you were there to make fun of."

Her cousin shot her a lopsided smirk and said, "Well then we will have to see if I can join you. I know my parents would be thrilled at the idea."

By the end of the discussion, the pair had reached their destination. They played a round of gobstones, and then returned back downstairs. By then, guests had begun to arrive.

Helvetica noticed her family members first. Arcturus said hello and Melania gave her a little hug. Pollux patted her and Draco on the shoulders as he passed by. Helvetica sidled up to her aunt as she watched people filter in and whispered, "Can Draco take lessons with me?"

Aunt Cassie hissed at her to be quiet, and whispered, "Later." Helvetica pouted, and turned back to the greater room. As the girl watched, she saw people that she didn’t recognize, or hadn’t been formally introduced. The minister was there as well as many unknown adults. Along with them came several children. At seeing Helvetica eyeing them, Draco introduced his new cousin to all of his friends. There were many names to go with the many faces.

The children their age consisted of Daphne Greengrass, Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Theodore Nott, Pansy Parkinson, and Blaise Zabini. From what Helvetica gathered, Draco did not seem to like most of them. Crabbe and Goyle were two lumps who did not say much (in fact she did not hear them say a single word the entire night.) and had meaty fists and dumb expressions. Pansy clung to Draco, cooing over him, and he spent the entire night dragging Helvetica different places to hide from her. Blaise Zabini also did not say much, mostly spending time around his mother’s skirts. The only sane ones that Helvetica could see were Daphne and Theo. They conversed a bit and Helvetica found that they were quite pleasant (though since she was a Black all of the children had to be polite to her). Daphne also had a four-year-old sister named Astoria who clung to her the entire night.

Finally, the night drew to a close and the Greengrasses were the last to leave. Daphne waved goodbye. Astoria was laying on her father’s shoulder, sucking her thumb, out like a light.

“Are we leaving too, Aunt Cassie?” Helvetica asked, rubbing her eye sleepily.

“Yes,” she said, “after gifts have been exchanged.”

“Really?!” Hel exclaimed, all sleepiness forgotten.

The adults chuckled and they herded the children back into the sitting room. Arcturus sat in a leather armchair beside Abraxas. Their wives sat together on a sofa with Cassiopeia and Irma, Pollux’s wife. Pollux sat in between Regulus and Lucius, who sat by Narcissa. The children sat on the floor.

Arcturus went first. He handed both children gifts. Draco delightfully tore into his, seeing that it was a set of gobstones. Helvetica also opened hers immediately, though with a bit more preservation than her blonde cousin—it was another doll.

Next, it was Pollux's turn. He too handed the children gifts and watched his great niece and grandson with interest. Helvetica received a bunch of pink hair ribbons, and Draco received a kit for owl care. Cassiopeia went next, giving both of them different books on spells. Then it was finally Abraxas’s turn to give the children presents.

Helvetica pulled the wrapping off of a long, thin package to find a broom underneath. She glanced over at Draco and saw that he too held a broom. At her questioning look, he shrugged.

“It was my idea,” the boy smiled softly. “You told me you didn’t have a broom.

“Thank you,” the girl nodded solemnly.

Draco sighed. Helvetica turned to her aunt and asked, "So?"

Her aunt knew instantly to which she was referring, and she gave a very put-upon sigh, and said, "If he must—and if his parents are agreeable—I suppose it will be all right for Draco to join you."

"Thank you, Great-Aunt Cassiopeia," Draco said, grinning. He looked to Helvetica and saw she still wasn't smiling, and was instead inspecting her new spell books.

"Come along, child, it's time we got going," Cassie said, beckoning her charge. Helvetica trudged after her. By then it was past midnight and Helvetica was drooping tiredly, clutching her new presents. They flooed home and went up to Helvetica’s room. Cassie put the girl’s nightgown on for her and tucked her into bed. As soon as her head hit the pillow, Helvetica was asleep. Regulus at this time emerged from the study and spent the rest of the night setting out presents under their tree.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To those following my story, I apologize. I've been super busy with college, work, and everything else. I finally have had time this week to sit down and actually post. Also, I'm sorry I didn't go too into detail on most of the party. This wasn't too terribly important to the story, so I didn't spend a lot of time on it. This story covers A LOT, so don't be surprised to see me skim over events in the future. The purpose of this chapter was mostly to establish that one of the Horcruxes was destroyed, set up a precedent for future chapters, and show that Helvetica is still quite reserved.  
> With that said, I am going to be posting the next chapter momentarily. In the meantime, let me know what you think of the story so far!
> 
> Ta ta!  
> LittleMissMycroft


	9. Chapter Seven: Draco's Little Hellion

True to her word, Cassiopeia began tutoring Draco once the New Year had passed. Draco soon found that the Black Townhouse was quite different from his own home. Although it was no manor, it was Helvetica’s domain, and it did not take him long to learn as much. At the Black Townhouse, Helvetica decided what they played. Helvetica was the one that chose the meals and dominated the lessons. Draco was used to getting all of the attention, but for once he did not mind sharing the limelight.

Another thing that Draco learned was that Helvetica dressed very different in her own home than when she came over to play with him. Whenever she was at Malfoy Manor, the girl wore black robes and a pink tie. The first lesson that they had, Draco flooed into the sitting room and waited patiently for Helvetica to appear. She did so, announcing that lessons were in the study, and Draco did a double take. In his eyes, the girl was practically wearing underwear. She wore a loose pink blouse and black shorts that were well above her knees.

“What are you wearing?” he had asked.

Helvetica looked down at her clothes with a mumbled, “Oh. These are my play clothes.”

“Why don’t you play in robes?” Draco asked.

“These are more comfortable,” she shrugged. “This is what I used to wear in America.”

“America sounds very strange,” he mused. “I wonder—can I wear clothes like that while I’m here? Now I feel out of place.”

He looked down at his grey robes.

“Sure,” Helvetica nodded. “I’ll see if grandfather can send some for you. You can change into them while you’re here.”

So, after that day, Draco was given an assortment of strange clothing to wear at the townhouse. The shirts were thinner and simpler—sometimes with pictures on the front. He also got to wear short trousers, which he had to admit were more comfortable than his robes. He always changed back into his robes before he returned home. He didn’t know why, but he felt like his parents would not like the new clothes.

Every Monday through Thursday, he would arrive after breakfast and take lessons with Helvetica. Then, they would eat lunch and play for an hour or so before the boy was sent back home in time for dinner. He would spend the evening with his parents. They also still kept the routine of playing at Malfoy Manor all day long every Friday.

Draco liked spending the extra time with his cousin. He found that it was quite enjoyable. The spring passed in a flurry of learning and playing, and Draco birthday loomed nearer. He continued trying to make Helvetica smile, and kept failing—that only gave him more determination to win his secret game.

***~B~***

Regulus and Cassiopeia’s first order in business after destroying the locket was to discuss the possibility of Voldemort having more Horcruxes. Although _Secrets of the Darkest Art_ stated that the more Horcruxes one makes, the more unstable their soul becomes, Regulus was certain the Dark Lord would have created more than one.

“He would have had insurance,” he told his aunt. “Possibly even six of them. He always had a thing for magical numbers.”

“But even if he was planning to do so, he might not have created all of them before his fall from grace,” Cassie reasoned. “There’s still the problem of just not knowing how many we are looking for.”

“Well, I assume that if we find six we shall know how many he created,” Regulus reasoned. Cassiopeia seemed displeased that the whole matter was so uncertain, but said nothing else on the regard. Afterwards, their focus was on the Dark Lord’s history. Understanding the man’s history would help them better understand his choice for Horcruxes.

The only problem was that Voldemort was not the man’s real name—Voldemort had surfaced in the late nineteen-sixties to the early nineteen-seventies, where he began his campaign against Muggleborns. Regulus knew _all_ about Voldemort, having clippings all pasted together documenting the man’s rise to power. However, even as one of his previous Death Eaters, Regulus had no idea of who the man really was, and he was sure that few others knew. However, he _did_ know that Abraxas Malfoy had been one of The Dark Lord’s earliest followers.

So, one weekday while Cassiopeia was preoccupied, Regulus approached Abraxas about the Dark Lord. The Malfoy had much to say on Voldemort—still quite enamored with him after all of these years. However, Regulus managed to leave with one important bit of information.

His name had been Tom Riddle.

It was then that the two Blacks began following the history of one Tom Riddle—starting from his childhood until he disappeared for good in the early sixties. Cassiopeia delved in with much vengeance, annoyed that the son of a Muggle had managed to charm the entire wizarding world. First, they scoured Hogwarts records of the boy—stored in the Ministry, of course. Then, they managed to find sources with which they could go back further and learn of his early childhood. When Regulus learned about the cave Tom Riddle visit the young man had remembered with shock the cave Kreacher had taken him to.

“It seems that he chose locations of great importance to him to hide his Horcruxes,” Regulus told Cassie. “We know that we found one in that cave—a place where he exerted power over Muggles—where he began learning to use his magic.”

“So where are other places he would have deemed important?”

“Hogwarts,” Regulus said quietly. “We know he applied to work there once.”

“And?”

Regulus hummed.

“We need more information.”

So, they delved even deeper, tracking the boy’s origins as well as the Dark Lord’s actions once he left Hogwarts. His mother had been Merope Gaunt, daughter of Marvolo and sister to Morfin. After Hogwarts, the young man had gone on to work at Borgin and Burkes. One of Cassiopeia’s Ministry contacts (who didn’t know why he was searching for information on the Gaunts or Tom Riddle, and was promptly Obliviated) had given them a set of important memories. The day they received those was a day of celebration for the two Blacks.

The one that they were most intrigued by, however, was Tom Riddle’s origins.

It was a memory involving the Dark Lord’s ancestors. It was an interrogation of the Ministry worker sent to apprehend Morfin Gaunt for attacking a Muggle.

_“I tried to take the boy,”_ the man had told his coworker, “ _but his father started flaunting their blood in my face. They’ve no money, only a golden locket and an old ring, and they think that it makes them superior.._.”

Regulus’s trained ears instantly recognized the locket, but he also reasoned that Voldemort might have made a Horcrux of this ring. And he just might have hidden it in the place where he had originated—the home of his ancestors.

***~B~***

_Helvetica cowered in her bed as the heavens split with a_ CRACK _! and her bedroom lit up as bright as day. The sky continued to rumble angrily and Helvetica shoved her head under her pillow. Her door creaked and she shot up, staring at the figure in her doorway in terror._

_“Come on,” the figure said softly. Helvetica breathed a sigh of relief. It was only Cole. He walked over to her bed and held out his hand._

_The tiny black-haired girl took the offered hand and slid out of bed. Together, the two walked down the hallway, hand in hand, to their parents’ bedroom. Their room was much darker than Helvetica’s. The curtains were drawn over the windows. In the corner, a humidifier hummed softly. Together, the siblings crawled into the king-sized bed and squeezed in between their parents. Their dad, next to Cole, let out a sigh and rolled over to face the room. Helvetica’s mom wrapped her arm around the little girl’s shoulders and kissed her downy head._

_“I love you, my little Gem,” the woman whispered._

BOOM!

Helvetica bolted upright in her large bed in Malfoy Manor. The room was larger than the one from her dream, but it similarly flickered with light from the storm that raged outside. There was a creak and her door opened slowly.

“You’re awake?” came the loud kind of whisper that only a child makes. Helvetica could make out a head of platinum hair.

“Yeah,” Helvetica sighed.

“I had a bad dream,” Draco said quietly, coming over and standing beside her bed. Lightning flashed, illuminating his form. Like her, he wore a white night gown, but unlike hers it lacked the lace and ribbons. It reminded Hel that the Wizarding World seemed stuck in the eighteen hundreds. She remembered her and Cole, clad in t-shirts and pajama pants, climbing in their parents’ bed when they were scared—or at least, until their mother died. After that, their father didn’t let them anymore.

“Why don’t you go to your parents?” Helvetica asked.

“Father doesn’t like it when I wake him up,” Draco replied. “I only tried to climb in their bed once, years ago, and he pushed me off the bed. He said it was a reflex…I haven’t tried since.”

The black-haired girl pondered his words, remembering cowering in terror in her bed after a nightmare the first night her father had told her that she couldn’t sleep with him anymore. Cole had come in and comforted her, sleeping with her that night and telling her that he would always protect her from the monsters. “Come here,” she finally said. Draco grinned and climbed onto the bed beside her. “What was your dream about?”

The blonde looked down and picked at the sheets.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he mumbled.

“I had a dream too,” Helvetica told him. “About my mom. She died when I was little. I don’t remember her much. But she loved me very much—that I remember. My father didn’t like it when Cole and I woke him up either, but Mom would always make us tell her what was scaring us.” She thought of her dream and the ghost of the kiss on the top of her head. “She used to call me her ‘little Gem.’”

“Gem?” he asked curiously.

“My middle name is Gemini,” the girl replied. “My dad always says that Mom picked out Helvetica, and he picked out Gemini. He used to say that she called me that because she loved the name he picked.”

“So, you _do_ have a star name!” Draco smiled.

“Huh?”

“Gemini is a constellation,” the boy told her. “All of the Blacks are named after stars or constellations. I am too—my mother was—”

“A Black, I know,” she finished.

“I don’t think Gem is a good nickname for you,” Draco shook his head, rolling onto his back and staring up at the dark canopy. “You need something more fitting.” He screwed up his face, seeming to think hard. “I know! I’ll call you my little Hellion.”

Helvetica’s mouth dropped open in outrage.

“I’m older than you!” she exclaimed. She knew that for a fact—he didn’t turn nine for another week.

“I’m taller,” the boy retorted, grinning at her. Helvetica pouted.

“What about you?” the girl finally asked.

“What about me?” the boy parroted.

“What’s your nickname? Drainpipe?”

The boy scowled. Helvetica giggled. He stared at her.

“Did you just laugh?” he asked.

“No,” she said, fighting to put the smile off of her face.

“You did!” Draco exclaimed with satisfaction. “Look—I see you smiling!”

They both broke down in giggles. They fell silent, facing each other. Draco’s smile was still present as he looked at Helvetica’s eyes. In the dark, they looked like twin coals—as black as her surname.

“One day,” he said, interrupting the silence, “I’m going to marry you.”

“ _What_?” Helvetica giggled. “But we’re cousins!”

“I don’t care,” the boy shook his head. “I always want to be able to make you smile.”

“Why, though?” Helvetica asked.

“Because I love you, my little Hellion.”

Helvetica tried to scowl but it didn’t work. At seeing the girl making a face, Draco giggled. Helvetica’s resolve broke, and soon the two children’s laughter could be heard echoing throughout the manor.

***~B~***

Helvetica didn’t know why, but after that night she was never invited to stay the night again. Being nine years old, the girl didn’t think on it too much. What she didn’t know was that the reason was because Draco had told Lucius of his plans to marry his cousin, and the elder Malfoy (who disliked Helvetica as much as his father-in-law did) did not take kindly to the idea. But since summer had just begun, the girl soon forgot about sleepovers and marriage promises. Cassiopeia suspended Helvetica’s lessons for the summer and the girl spent most of her days at Malfoy Manor playing outside with Draco.

They played Quidditch often. Occasionally the two would go down to the pond on the grounds and splash in it—whenever they did, they were not allowed inside until they were properly dried. Narcissa was very proficient at drying charms, so typically it did not take long. The one time Helvetica had managed to get into the manor before her aunt arrived, she got scolded by one of the elves for dripping all over the carpet.

The summer flew by and Helvetica felt like every moment of it she was either smiling or laughing. It was a large change from the mood she had after her father’s death—it was like the sun after the rain, the warmth of summer after a particularly nasty winter. At the end of the summer, both Draco and Helvetica went on a trip to France with Pollux. After nearly a year, Helvetica’s French had improved greatly. Her young mind seemed to soak it up like a sponge. So much so, that she was almost able to hold a conversation with the natives, and anything she couldn’t understand her great-uncle would help her with.

That fall, Draco joined in Helvetica’s lessons once more. Every weekday from Monday to Thursday he would come over to Grimmauld Place after breakfast and leave for home after lunch. Each Friday, Helvetica would go over to Malfoy Manor as she did before the summer. The two grew inseparable. Often the adults would see them whispering and giggling behind their hands. When they weren’t, they could be seen shouting at each other—both were still quite opinionated children, after all.

The weather began to grow cooler once more, but Helvetica’s mood was not dulled. She was back to her lively self. Regulus and Cassie wondered if this was what she would normally be like from now on—they were not unhappy with the change. Regulus, ever the fun uncle, would sometimes take Helvetica to the park across the way and chase her around, tickling her. Aunt Cassie continued to dote on her, braiding her hair every day and tucking her in bed every night. Aunt Narcissa was always kind, and would often say very wise things. Draco, ever Helvetica’s best friend, never ceased to make her laugh.

Helvetica soon found that she loved her new life, and she did indeed have much to smile about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Parts of this chapter were inspired by Secret Garden. I always thought that Colin reminded me of a "sickly" Draco. He's spoiled, bratty, and blonde. The fact that Helvetica is as high strung as her cousin made a parallel between the two stories hard to ignore. I'm not a big proponent of incest, but keep in mind that these are children and Draco is currently expressing a very pure love for his new best friend. Outside of that, these two are more distantly related than some canon Harry Potter pairings (*cough* Walburga and Orion Black *cough*).  
> I don't state this in the story itself because it's from the point of view of a child, but there are several reasons Lucius opposes Helvetica being near his son. One being that he sees her as a bad influence on Draco, coming from a Muggle background. The other is politics. In the Wizarding World, marriages are made among the highest class in order to gain something. If Draco were to marry Helvetica, it could mean the end of the Malfoy name, since the Blacks are the oldest British wizarding family still of decent standing.  
> Anyway, enough from me! Let me know what you thought of the chapter, or of the work as a whole so far.  
> See ya!


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